Chapter One
Will sat next to the window, his head resting on a high wingback chair, watching the moonlight cast shadows on the garden below. Its flowers were in full splendor and the light danced with the petals of the rose vine that grew up the garden’s wall.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment and tried to remember the last time he’d contemplated light on flowers. He was fairly certain the answer was never.
Forced retirement was wreaking havoc on his mind. He’d found purpose as a spy for the Prince Regent. He’d investigated several criminal operations, all without detection. To the rest of society, he’d been seen as a bumbling lord, a man more interested in gambling and women than in helping his country. He’d played his role perfectly and it had allowed him to move unhindered through many social circles and slip back out before anyone suspected espionage was at play.
That was until last month. He’d been investigating the Marquess of Highwater. He’d set up an elaborate ruse to become indebted to the man so that he might “fall” under the marquess’s employ. Basically he’d become an indentured slave. The man had been running a high market theft ring, stealing jewels and other goods from society’s most elite and selling them to interested buyers.
That was, until the Marquess had kidnapped not one, but two women, both of whom were daughters of the Duke of Waverly. Highwater now sat in Scotland Yard. Unfortunately, he’d dragged Will’s family name down with him and his rash actions had cut Will’s investigation short.
The Marquess had been guilty, of course. But who supplied him with the jewels? Who bought them knowing they were stolen from the crown? And what was the money financing? These were all questions Will had only begun to answer.
He hoped, however, to have the chance to finish the investigation he’d started. But now society connected him with a known thief smearing his reputation. He was viewed as a criminal along with assuming he was a bumbling idiot. If caught participating in anymore illicit activity, the Prince Regent wouldn’t be able to spare him from justice without revealing he was a spy.
What a mess.
Fortunately, his acquaintances, the Lord Pennwalt and his lovely wife, had included him on the invite list to their house party despite his reputation. Or perhaps because of it. He knew every tongue was wagging about his activities, which made his job more difficult. In any event, they’d given him a rare opportunity by having him here, one he wouldn’t squander. The ton would allow him to be a gambling penniless rake, but not, apparently, a thieving one. He wouldn’t have another chance like this anytime soon. Most of society had removed him from their guest roster.
Not that he cared what they thought, but it impacted his work. He might have just hidden himself away and allowed the rumors to settle but the Baron of Bridgeton was expected to arrive in two days’ time. Bridgeton had been quietly involved with Highwater. And while the Prince Regent had suggested Will remove himself from the investigation before it was too late and he was forever branded a thief, Will found he couldn’t let it go.
So he waited.
But the party downstairs held little appeal without Bridgeton here to scrutinize. Rather than participate, he’d taken himself back to his room with a scotch. Where he found himself contemplating flowers. No wonder he wanted to continue the investigation. He’d perish of boredom without it.
A rattling of his door’s handle made him blink in surprise. While the moonlight illuminated the garden outside his window, he sat in a dark corner of the room. It was a habit he’d developed from years of subterfuge as he trained his gaze to the door.
He heard something rattle in the lock and then the distinct click as whoever was on the other side successfully picked it. Slowly the door swung open and a figure crept in, softly closing the large, wood-paneled behemoth behind them. A quick glance told him it was a person of small stature, though not a child; it didn’t appear to be a man either. Had a woman sneaked into his room?
A smile curved one corner of his lips upward. There were a few widows in attendance. Lady Crawley, for example. A lovely, though empty-headed, woman. He’d not thought her capable of picking a lock. But appearances could sometimes be deceiving. Not usually, but occasionally.
Perhaps she or someone else was looking for a dalliance. Whomever it was, she was persistent. Mayhap, this was just the distraction he needed until Bridgeton arrived.
But the little minx didn’t move toward the bed to arrange herself for his benefit. Instead, she trailed her hand along the wall, finding her way to the dressing table. Her fingers searched along until they reached a candle and then, with fumbling hands, she lit the wax. How curious.
Once the room was illuminated, she began to move the objects on the table about, searching through several of the drawers. Surprise rippled through him as he watched her search. With the candle, he could see how tiny her waist was and the generous curve of her backside. Lush locks of hair were piled atop her head. And yet, she wasn’t here for his benefit. Whoever she was, the chit had trespassed into his room to search for something.
Well that simply wouldn’t do. He was glad he’d come up to his room, because finding out why she was here would be far more interesting than anything that likely would have happened at the party downstairs. This was going to be fun.
Rose opened a drawer of the dressing table and let out a little sigh of frustration. Nothing but neatly folded cravats. She supposed that she hadn’t really expected to find her mother’s jewels tucked between his neckties but still. Couldn’t there be some evidence that Lord Addington was the thief the entire country believed him to be?
In fairness, not everyone believed that. Some just thought he was a fool who’d allowed his debts to entangle him in a scandal.
Deep down, she didn’t think that was true. She’d been studying him the past few days and she knew, with absolute certainty, he was far too intelligent to have been the fool. His comments were too perfectly witty, his expressions full of understanding. In fact, she’d wager, not that she ever did gamble, he was one of the masterminds of the thieving operation and only pretended to be a hapless victim to keep himself out of trouble. Intelligent and conniving, Lord Addington was surely guilty.
Rose needed proof, however, so she’d snuck into his room while everyone else attended dinner downstairs. She knew it was risky. Her reputation as a lady of quality had remained untarnished to this point, and while she hoped to keep it that way, she’d do everything in her power to get answers.
A lock of her thick blonde hair fell over her shoulder and she pushed it back, sighing in frustration as she did. She’d had to use the pin holding it back to p
ick the lock. The unruly strands were just looking for an excuse to misbehave.
How would she ever find her mother’s lost diamonds like this? And she had to find them. They’d been one of the few items that her mother had inherited from Rose’s grandmother, and then passed down to Rose upon her deathbed. The only heirloom she had left with which she could remember her beautiful mother. It was unfair enough that her mother had been taken from her. Why must her most precious gems also have to disappear?
They’d been sent to her father’s solicitor for appraisal. Her father had been adamant that all her assets be catalogued in the event something should happen to him and she was left alone. She’d reluctantly agreed to part with them. Some weeks later, they’d been informed that the jewels had been stolen without a clue as to where or by whom. The Bow Street runners had looked into it, of course. But the stones had passed hand several times, from solicitor to jeweler to another jeweler and not one of them identified exactly when they’d had them or when they’d disappeared.
Days later, the Bow Street Runners arrested their solicitor, Mr. Stanley Winters, along with the Marquess of Highwater, and tossed them into the tower for systematically stealing and reselling valuables, some even belonging to the Prince Regent himself. And while they were most likely responsible for the theft of her mother’s diamonds, the location of the stones remained a complete mystery. One Rose intended to solve.
Sadly, many of the thieves involved in the ring were still at large. The ton could talk of little else besides the scandal and every tea party, ball, and picnic she attended, new theories about who else was involved abounded. But the name on almost everyone’s tongue…Lord William Addington.
Rose had convinced her father to accept the invitation from Lord and Lady Pennwalt, knowing full well that Addington was on the guest list. Everyone within society knew he’d be here and while they’d all shuddered to think of socializing with him, they all secretly wanted to attend.
Rose and her father had arrived the day before yesterday and Addington was already in attendance. She’d thought of him so often, she created an image of him in her mind. Short, with a long nose and beady eyes, perhaps he’d worn spectacles. He was likely a bit overweight and most assuredly hunched.
Nothing had prepared her for the man she actually met. Tall and broad, his square jaw and dark piercing eyes would intimidate even the bravest among them. His brown hair was longer than was fashionable and its loose waves, along with his full lips, softened an otherwise hard man. He was devilishly handsome and she’d found herself looking at him a good deal more than necessary, which said a lot considering that she came here to investigate him.